


Head Over Heart

by NotManTheLessButNatureMore



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:20:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29207259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotManTheLessButNatureMore/pseuds/NotManTheLessButNatureMore
Summary: “Please!”It’s the softness of Athos’ eyes now that twists the knife in Aramis’ heart.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 27





	Head Over Heart

“Please!”

It’s the softness of Athos’ eyes now that twists the knife in Aramis’ heart. Earlier, when they held a fire, it had been easier to imagine that a scolding from Athos would be the conclusion to the events of the day.

“Not him, just me. Please!” 

He is Aramis of the King’s Musketeers and at any other time would greet death with a defiant smirk but not now, not his brother’s. Blind panic is washing through him and every flashing glimpse of a plan for their escape is immediately cut down by the knowledge that there is no escape from this. His breath shudders in his chest knowing he has done this.

“A punishment, something else, please. Not this.” The men holding them firmly by the arms don’t give any indication that Aramis has even spoken. He feels as though he is the only one that can see what is happening, as though everyone else is sleep walking through his nightmare.

“Get Treville, he’ll-“

“-stop.” Athos’ voice is restrained and full of the cool command he’s grown reliant upon in times of crisis. He looks across at him from the other end of the platform and Aramis can see a thousand words and emotions flow between them. Annoyance, anger, despair but mostly forgiveness. And love, always love. It draws tears to Aramis’ eyes to think of all the time they have spent pulling Athos back from the darkness, all the veiled conversations that have amounted to ‘ _ don’t leave us _ ’, and the happiness they felt when Athos turned a corner and no longer courted self-destruction. To have been the one to rob Athos of the future they promised him was worth sticking around for breaks Aramis’ heart.

Athos turns his eyes back towards the sky and Aramis follows his gaze. The grey clouds seem to be standing still, as though they’ve arrived for the show and are growing impatient at the hold up. A crowd has gathered but Aramis can’t bear to look through the mix of faces in case he finds Porthos or d’Artagnan. He can’t see the devastation in their eyes, can’t think of their group halved prematurely because of him. His mind wanders painfully and he imagines them returning to their rooms at the garrison and suffocating in the silence that comes after leaving a loved one behind for the last time.

Suddenly, a hooded man steps forward and things begin to happen too quickly. Athos is to go first and Aramis knows this is not simply down to the flip of a coin, it is to make sure he suffers before meeting his own end. 

The wood creaks as Athos walks towards the centre of the platform.

“Athos...” Aramis knows his voice is shaking under the weight of everything he wants to say and now knows he will never get the chance to say.

“I’m so sorry.” It’s barely whispered, the words barely making it past the lump in his throat.

Athos looks straight at him and something inside Aramis shudders as Athos opens his mouth to speak.

“Head over h-“ 

The floor beneath him gives way like a sheet of ice.

———————————————————

“Athos!” 

Aramis startles awake and is up on one elbow with the other arm trying to throw off his cloak.

“Shhh!” Porthos loudly protests from where he is keeping watch at the base of an old oak tree. He grumbles about Aramis waking the next village while poking at the small fire with a long stick.

“Athos?” Aramis’ head snaps around as he finds a sleeping d’Artagnan first but not Athos.

“Where you left ‘im.” Porthos whispers and then yawns, unaware of the racing of Aramis’ heart and the beads of sweat running down his brow.

Eyes desperately searching their small camp, he finds the distinctive shape of his brother lying inches from Porthos’ left side. As the firelight flickers across him, Aramis strains his eyes to see the rise and fall of Athos’ chest and only then does Aramis relax back onto his elbows. 

Athos is close to the fire but his cloak covers only his legs in deference to the warm night. D’Artagnan’s doublet acts as a makeshift pillow and the bottom part of Porthos’ spare shirt is now a bandage across his brow, but Athos’ face is peaceful in sleep and free from the pain that marked it earlier.

“Oi, go asleep.” Porthos whispers, his deep tone managing to make it sound like a shout. 

Aramis watches Athos a moment more and then collapses down flat onto his own forest floor bed. As his chest finally loosens and his heart slows to a natural pace he hears d’Artagnan shuffle in his sleep and is reminded of the unfinished words of his nightmare.

Head over heart.

As night gives way to morning Aramis dwells on the irrevocable choice he has made.

**Author's Note:**

> Written in haste at night and I’m more of an Athos girl than an Aramis one (in most ways) so apologies if it seems out of character.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
